


For the Ecstasy of Contemplation

by RedBowBuddha



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 1950s, Angst, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stuck in time, cursing, movies - Freeform, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBowBuddha/pseuds/RedBowBuddha
Summary: Leonard and Raymond get left behind when things go south in the 1950s. The teammates stick together and, as the weeks plod onward, they realize they need one another now more than ever.~~~Inspired by Legend's S1:E9 "Left Behind"; thought I'd change cannon up a bit!





	1. 206 Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taakoshell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taakoshell/gifts).



> Thanks, as always, to turtlelady17 for beta-ing!

Day 1:

“I can hear them!” Len heard Ray shout from behind him. 

The pair were sprinting through a pitch black trail in the park toward the Waverider. The team had narrowly escaped the attack of a time travelling assassin and were all fleeing the scene. Rip and Sara shouted over the sound of the engines starting up, the bright lights of the ship coming into view as the cloaking devices shut down.

As Len and Ray finally broke through the tree line, they watched the Waverider quickly launch and take off into the sky, disappearing from view and leaving them standing in the moonlight, slack jawed.

“They left us…” Ray finally uttered after a few moments of silence, still staring up into the sky. “They left us in the 1950s. Why would they do that?”

Len sneered and looked away from the sky at the singed ground beneath their feet, “Maybe things got too hot.” 

Ray looked down, too, unaffected by Len’s pun as the gears in his mind turned with the possibilities. “Well,” he said, looking up to Len, “they are in a timeship. So, theoretically they should come right back here. All we have to do is wait!” He ended on a chipper tone, looking over and finding a nearby park bench to sit on. 

Len huffed dramatically and rested his unholstered Cold Gun against his shoulder. He gave Ray a sidelong look and then the pair both looked up to the stars together. After fifteen minutes of silence, Len finally walked over and sat next to Ray, who never tore his eyes from above them. Waiting patiently, Len holstered his gun and crossed one leg over the other, examining his fingernails with the same boredom you’d have waiting for a bus. He gave it another twenty minutes before his stomach started growling. “Ray,” he started tentatively.

Ray still didn’t look away from the sky, his attention wholly on the return of the waverider. 

“Raymond,” Len said again, his patience thinning.

“Leonard,” he finally answered defeatedly.

“I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner, come on,” he demanded, standing up and buttoning his period-appropriate coat to cover his gun strapped to his thigh. 

Ray didn’t budge. 

Len sighed and walked over to where Ray’s hat had blown off of him as they ran. He returned it to Ray’s head and angled it just so, “There, now we’re ready. Come on, they’ve got all kinds of good diners around here.” 

Ray finally looked to Len, “But… they just left us here, Len.” His eyes were wet and his voice thick with emotion, “They have a timeship. If they’re not back by now… something’s happened. Something’s happened and no one knows we’re here and no one’s coming for us and-”

“Do you like rootbeer floats?” Len interrupted.

Ray looked like he had whiplash, the out of the blue question yanking him from his downward spiral, “Wha- rootbeer floats?”

Len nodded then reached in his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a small notebook. He scribbled a quick message and ripped the page out, impaling it on a loose nailhead on the park bench. 

Ray examined the note: ‘Got hungry. Use comms. Not far.’ Then he looked up to Len who was waiting for him quietly. Ray looked up to the sky one more time and sighed deeply. He stood up and readjusted his coat and hat and the pair set off to find dinner. 

Out of the park and down the road the pair found a sparsely populated diner. The door rang a tiny bell as they entered and sat down in a corner booth away from the few patrons. A young lady came and took their order, which Len had to supply for the both of them. Ray continued to stare off into space, dumbfounded that they were even still in the 50s. 

Len kept quiet with him until the food arrived: two cheeseburgers, two fries, and two large rootbeer floats. “Now normally I’d say save dessert for after dinner… but I’ll make a special exception today.” He grabbed his own float and took a sip, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. “Simply divine. Come on, take a sip, Ray. I need my teammate here with me,” he urged, sliding Ray’s float closer to him.

Ray broke out of his daze at Len’s words. He was right, after all. They were part of a team and even if the rest of the team wasn’t there, they still had each other. Determination played on his face as he gave Len a meaningful nod and took a sip, a groan escaping his lips as the cool vanilla flavor shocked him. “Wow, divine really is the perfect word.”

Len grinned and tucked into his meal. When he was done, he pulled out his wallet, stuffed with cash made by Gideon, enough to pay for this meal and a few more days worth. However, Len never liked being unprepared. He was already calculating their daily expenses and determined that being prepared for a month at the most would make him feel more comfortable. After allowing Ray enough time to finish, he placed enough on the table for their meal and the pair headed out. “I have a plan,” Len said as they shuffled down the sidewalk, the morning light breaking over them and filling the main street of the town. 

Ray let out a small laugh, “Go figure. Let’s hear it.”

Len shook his head, “You don’t need to know.” He pointed at a bookstore across the street. “Go make yourself comfy, I’ll be back in about… an hour,” he finished with a grin. 

Ray gave him a confused look but went along with it, “Alright, Snart. Just don’t leave me here,” he said seriously, holding an accusing finger to Len’s chest. 

Len clutched his heart, “Would never dream of it,” he drawled, then watched as Ray crossed the street and disappeared inside. His mind immediately went to work. They had already been in that town for a few days stinking the place up with Legend’s business, so they couldn’t stay. But he could still use the resources before skipping town.

Ray entered the bookshop and was greeted by an older man, “You’re up quite early for books, young sir!” 

Ray smiled politely and nodded, “Time waits for no man,” he quipped, then felt his gut wrench at the horrible reminder. The shopkeep found it clever, though and let him be. 

After about forty minutes of perusing the shelves Ray became impatient and sat in a chair near the front window. He had the daily paper in hand as he pretended to read it. His foot tapped incessantly as his eyes were trained on the street waiting for Len to return. Another fifteen minutes passed and Len finally arrived, five minutes ahead of schedule. Ray met him outside and gawked at the car he had pulled up in. 

Len idled next to the sidewalk with a knowing smirk on his face; the car he boosted was a classic powder blue roadster complete with a white convertible top. 

“My knight in shining armor,” Ray joked.

“Ew,” was Len’s only reply as he leaned over to unlock the passenger side door for Ray, who quickly slipped in and ran his hands over the dash. 

“Woah,” he said in awe, “This is like… pristine…” 

Len gave a small laugh and pulled back out onto the road, wasting no time on his route to the highway. “The men at the dealership thought so, too, I’m sure.” 

Ray chose to ignore the obvious fact that the car was stolen. He reached for a buckle and, realising there wasn’t any, he hunkered down into the cushions as they picked up speed on the highway. “Where are we going?” he finally asked.

Len fixed his rearview mirror and seeing nothing in it he let himself relax a bit, letting his hand fly in the wind outside of his open window. “Can’t stay there, too much heat from the Legends. We’re just going a few towns over so nothing’s too suspicious.”

Ray nodded along and then a yawn overtook him. Len turned on the radio to an oldies, well, to a top hits station and let it play softly. He saw out of the corner of his vision that Ray’s eyes drooped and his head lolled back, overcome with fatigue from their all night escapades. Soon a quiet snoring filled the car as they cruised down the highway.

Well after lunchtime Ray woke with a start as Len’s door slammed shut. “What-” he started before he saw Len opening the trunk behind him. Hopping out of the car he noticed they were in some kind of parking garage. “Where are we?”

“Got us a place,” Len said matter of factly, tossing a heavy duffel bag at Ray from the trunk. “Bachelor pad for two. Should suffice until the team comes back.” He had two large bags thrown over his shoulder and slammed the trunk closed. 

Ray nodded along with confusion written on his face. He hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder and followed Len up a flight of stairs to their temporary home: a small apartment furnished with classic mid century style furniture, plush carpeted rooms and tiled kitchen. While old school, it was quite extravagant for the times. 

“This place is great, Len. How’d you afford it?” Ray asked, setting down the heavy bag he was carrying and inspecting the furniture and apartment further.

Len shrugged and plopped down on the couch, stretching out in preparation for his own nap. “I lifted the burden of a few bankers this morning,” he said, waving a hand toward the bags they had carried in. 

“You, what?” Ray asked incredulously, more impressed than anything if he was being honest with himself. “Wait, wait, wait, you’re telling me that in an  _ hour- _ ”

“Fifty-five minutes,” Len corrected holding up a finger and draping an arm over his tired eyes.

“In  _ fifty-five _ minutes, you managed to steal a brand new car, find us an apartment three towns over,  _ and _ swipe three giants bags of cash?” Ray asked, walking over to a bag and unzipping it to find piles of green cash inside. 

“I know,” Len said, waving a hand around as he spoke, “I’m getting rusty.” Ray could hear the smirk in his voice. “Now,” he said, sitting up a bit and removing his arm to look back at Ray, “Do you think with your suit and your brain that you can help  _ us _ out? I can’t be the only one pulling my weight around here.”

Ray nodded seriously and took out the small plastic container that held his shrunken suit, “I think I may be able to repurpose some parts of the suit to use as a beacon. I can send out a signal to the team so they can pinpoint us more easily.”

Len gave him a genuine grin at that, “Perfect, boy scout. You get on that, I’m getting some beauty rest,” he said, turning on his side to face the back of the couch and pulling a decorative throw over his curled up form. 

“Hey, Len?” Ray asked, as he started to drag the bags of money to a more inconspicuous place in the apartment.

“Mm?” he answered.

“Thanks… for everything. I’d still be on that park bench if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Len murmured, not moving from his position. 

 

Day 4:

Ray sat on the floor of their living room, pieces of his suit scattered around him. One large piece of tech was sitting between his outstretched legs as he bent over it, screwdriver in hand and a furrowed brow wrinkling his face in concentration. A spring suddenly popped out at him, causing a screw to fly out and part of the beacon to fall off unceremoniously and roll to the side. “Ugh,” he groaned, “Len!”

Len sauntered in from the kitchen, not looking up from the magazine he was flipping through, “huh?”

“Len, this is getting ridiculous. I need to take a break,” Ray said, putting down his tools and getting up on his feet, stretching his long arms as he stood up. 

“Raymond, we need this beacon in working order. You know that,” Len said flatly, still looking at the glossy images of new cars and fashion.

“It won’t ever be in working order if I can’t clear my head! Let’s go take a walk or go dance a little somewhere or something!” Ray offered, twisting his hips a little, desperation in his tone. “Come on, we’ve been cooped up in this apartment for four straight days now. I’m starting to feel like a prisoner.”

Len lowered the corner of his magazine to shift his gaze sarcastically to Ray, “Don’t be so dramatic, Palmer.”

Ray threw his hands up, turning to speak to the empty room, “Can you believe?  _ Snart _ thinks  _ I’m _ being dramatic.” He huffed a laugh and turned back to Len with an expectant look on his face. 

Len sighed and tossed his head back in exasperation, “Raymond, it’s only been a few days. I know ‘laying low’ isn’t something your profession has granted you experience in, but work with me here. Let’s get the beacon working…  _ please _ ?” he drawled out the last word, extra thick with sarcasm. 

Ray scrubbed a hand over his face and cracked his neck before sitting back down on the floor and picking up the contraption once more.

Len turned to go back to his chair in the kitchen and heard Ray demand from behind him, “I want strawberry cupcakes for dessert tonight.”

“As you wish,” Len said with a smirk.

 

Day 15 :

“The damn-!” Ray cut himself off, hurling his screwdriver at the couch cushion across from him, holding both hands over his face as he took in deep breaths.

Len tore his eyes away from his newspaper to glare at the offending screwdriver that lay on the opposite side of the couch from him. “So, how’s it going?” 

Ray dropped his hands and gave Len an exasperated look. “I’m going insane, Len. I need fresh air; can we please go for a walk in the park?”

Len went back to his magazine, “No, work. We’re not here to mess around.”

Ray’s frustration multiplied at Len’s dry response. He got up to his feet and crossed his arms defiantly. “You only keep me around for the tech and for the beacon. I thought we were friends, Len, teammates at least. If you really cared about me, you’d see that I’m not well! I need a break, man!”

“We need to lay low,” Len said, putting his magazine down and fixing his gaze on Ray’s determined eyes. 

“I need to see a tree! Or a movie! Something!” Ray nearly shouted, desperation in his voice. 

The pair simply stared at one another for a few moments; Ray’s dark brown eyes appealing desperately to Len’s icy blues. Finally, Len rolled his eyes and uncrossed his legs, “Fine. Let’s go look at a damn tree.” He crossed the room and slipped on his coat and grabbed his hat. 

Ray was practically beaming, “Wow, thanks!” 

* * *

A few hours later, as dusk was falling, the pair was strolling out of the closest city park to their apartment. Ray was rambling about early urban planning and ecosystems when Len cut him off, “There, you’ve seen your trees. Let’s get back and finish working on the beacon.”

As they turned the corner, Ray caught sight of a movie theater out of the corner of his eye. His face lit up as brightly as the marquee and he pointed it out to Len, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Can we  _ please _ ?” he nearly begged. 

Len looked between the theater and Ray, contemplating the decision. The marquee read, ‘GODZILLA. OPENING NIGHT.’ Len suppressed a small smile; he did enjoy that movie and seeing it on opening night would be fun. Ray’s pleading puppy dog eyes were starting to make him sick, too, so Len agreed. Anything to make the man stop  _ looking at him like that _ . 

* * *

After the movie, the two were ambling back to their apartment, Ray with his popcorn bag still in hand, “I love that movie! No wonder it’s a classic,” he said the last part in a whisper to Len, leaning in slightly.

Len ignored the warmth that spread through him at the feeling of Ray’s warm breath cascading on his cheek. “Everyone loves a big green monster,” he said with a shrug.

Ray nodded emphatically, munching on another handful of popcorn, “They also don’t make popcorn like they used to. Looks like my grandpa was right,” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, and thanks for buying my movie tickets… and popcorn… and clothes, apartment, and food now that I think about it.”

Len couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Got yourself a regular sugar daddy, huh?” Ray choked on his popcorn and Len gave a full on smile at his desired reaction. “What? Do I not meet your standards?” he asked, his hands gesturing down his form. “Even with all the goodies?” he teased.

Ray shook his head, hitting his chest as he coughing waned, “No! It’s not that! You’re very- you’re so- you’re, you know, people find you attractive.”

Len smirked at that, a curious eyebrow rose with his question, “people?”

“Yeah! I’m sure!” Ray shook his head, waving a hand around, “that’s not the point. You wouldn’t have to be my sugar-whatever, if I started working.” 

“Ray, we’ve been through this. You need to work on the beacon. I’ll handle the money. That’s my contribution. We’re a team, right?” Len said soberly, stuffing his hands back in his pockets.

Ray nodded along and tossed his empty popcorn bag in a nearby trashcan. 

 

Day 45:

“I’ve got it!” Ray called from the living room. 

Len came sprinting in, catching the doorway with his hand as he entered, his eyes wild with excitement. “It’s working?” he asked with a serious tone, his eyes flicking over every component of the machine in Ray’s hand. 

Ray was beaming, holding the beacon between the two of them. “It’s finished, rather. All I have to do is turn it on and theoretically they could be here within moments.”

The pair’s eyes met, excitement playing on their faces in their own way. Ray was grinning ear to ear while Len paid absolute attention, his eyes sparkling. 

“Do it,” Len finally said.

Ray gave a nod and pressed a large button on the beacon. It lit up, making a small whirring noise as it came to life. The pair exchanged hopeful looks again, their breath caught in their throat. 

After about five minutes of stillness, the beacon whirring and blinking repeatedly. “Does it work?” Len finally asked, deflating a little with the question. 

“Y-yeah, it should. I don’t-” he started turning it over in his hands, inspecting every square inch. 

Len went over to the window and peered outside for any sign of the Waverider. After another fifteen minutes of staring out the window like some  _ damned abandoned prom date _ Len slammed his fist against a nearby table, causing the coaster and table lamp to rattle dangerously. “You said it works,” he snarled, whirling back around on Ray.

Ray was tweaking a few screws with his tools feverishly and looked up to Len, “Yes, it does. But unfortunately, I don’t have anyone in this era who understands  _ time beacons _ to troubleshoot it with me. I’m doing the best I can!”

“Do better!” Len yelled, kicking the coffee table as he went to the door, grabbing his hat and keys. 

“Where are you going?” Ray asked to Len’s retreating back.

“Out.” he grumbled, slamming the door behind him. 

 

Day 67:

Ray and Len finally sat down to share a meal together. Ray had offered to cook for Len in an effort to speak with him given that the master thief was keen on sneaking in and out for the past month without a word. When their plates were nearly finished Ray cut to the chase, “So, where have you been going, Len?”

Len glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, spearing the last piece of his chicken on his fork with gusto, “What I do in my free time is none of your concern,  _ dear _ .” 

Ray huffed at the comment, “Well, you’ve been really upset since the beacon. I don’t want to hear you’ve been arrested or hurt someone because you don’t know how to deal with your anger, Len.”

Len barked a laugh, pushing his plate away from him and removing the napkin from his lap, “What I do with my anger is none of your business, Palmer.” He then stood up and turned to leave.

Ray stood up, his hands planted firmly on the table, “Len, it  _ is  _ my concern, damnit. You’re my teammate; the only one I’ve got right now and to me it seem like you’re just hurting yourself. Please, talk to me. Let’s deal with this together.”

Len turned to meet Ray’s pleading look. Those  _ fucking _ puppy dog eyes. How did- why did they make Len’s stomach churn? The sadness in them, the pleading, the  _ affection _ . It made Len sick. Len stormed up to Ray and met him nose to nose, fire in his eyes as the wrenching in his belly continued relentlessly. “If I were you,” he enunciated through gritted teeth, “I would only be concerned about my anger when it’s directed at you.” And with that, he turned on his heel, slamming the apartment door behind him and tried to leave the image of Ray’s teary eyes at the stoop.

 

Day 87:

Ray was humming quietly to himself as he unlocked the door to the apartment, grocery bags in hand. He had been living mostly on his own since his last dinner with Len, the thief continuing his pattern of sneaking in and out without a trace. The only way Ray knew Len had come back would be when food he left for Len was gone, a plate drying on the rack. 

When the door swung open, Ray dropped his grocery bags on the floor with a gasp.

Every piece of furniture was upturned, lamps fallen and shattered on the ground, curtains half hanging from their rods. The sound of glass shattering in the kitchen made Ray spring into action, grabbing a nearby umbrella and lifting it over his shoulder like a baseball bat. He creeped through the living room and peeking into the kitchen, he dropped the umbrella in the doorway. 

Len was sitting on the floor of the kitchen up against the cabinets looking entirely dejected with broken glass all around him except for a stack of dinner plates on his right and a glass of whiskey in his left hand. 

Ray paused at the sight and held out his hands in disbelief, “Len? Hey, what’s going on?” he asked desperately, not sure if he should approach him.

Len didn’t look up to him, just took another swig from his drink, “We’re stuck, Ray…” he drawled. “They should’ve come back by now. I’m just leaning into the 50s,” he raised his glass in a cheers and lazily flung another plate at the wall opposite him, revelling in the sound of the glass shattering into pieces.

Ray cringed at that and shook his head, stomping over to Len.  _ No more Mr. Nice Guy _ . Grabbing Len by the collar, Ray pulled him up and pressed him against the nearest wall, giving him a bit of a shake on the way there, “Damnit, Len! Get your act together!”

Len hurled his whiskey glass against the edge of the counter, watching it shatter and the brown liquid spray everywhere. “What’s the point?” He said with a near laugh, “I’ll just keep stealing to get by, which it’s not even  _ fun _ here, and you’ll just keep working on that damn beacon. And we’ll be dead before you or Lisa is even born.”

Ray held his gaze intently on Len, “Wow, Len. I didn’t know you’d give up so easy.”

Len sneered and looked away from his prying eyes. 

Ray finally let him go and walked over to the stack of plates. “Guess if the brilliant strategist can lose his patience so easily, why should I keep mine, huh?” Grabbing a plate, he hurled it down between his feet, ignoring how a shard bounced back and knicked his palm, a thin trail of blood running down to his finger tip as he gesticulated grandly with his words. “Guess the great  _ Captain Cold  _ isn’t as formidable and resilient as they thought.” He shook his head lightly, a fake laugh falling from his lips, “Wait till Barry Allen hears about this! ‘Three months in the 50’s Barry! That’s all it takes to wear him down!’”

Len became infuriated at the taunting. He knew that Ray was pushing his buttons in a way that would make him respond. It made him even more mad that Ray knew exactly where to push. He surged up to Ray and shoved him against the opposite wall, “Shut your mouth, boy scout!” he yelled into Ray’s face, nose-to-nose in his anger, his vision growing cloudy from unexpected tears that he would deny to the end of his days. “Don’t pretend like you know me. Your chipper attitude is so  _ grating _ ; no wonder you fit in here. Everything’s always so  _ swell _ , isn’t it?”

Even though the sight of Len’s eyes filled with tears crushed Ray, he still had to see this through. He shook his head lightly with a small laugh. 

“Oh, I know you, Len, better than you think. Just how I know your crappy attitude is all a front. You want to know how I stay positive? I  _ choose  _ to. Every morning I wake up and doubts and negative thoughts come to my mind, but I know those don’t do me any good. I make a conscious decision every day to find the light and it’s damn hard, but I do it because I know I can do better and I know I can be better. And you can, too.” 

With that he reached up and grabbed onto Len’s hands that were still firmly grasping his collar. Len must have punched a few walls, Ray noticed, as he swiped a tender thumb over Len’s knuckle and found it wet with blood as well. “I know you’ve been through some really bad times, I get that. But just, have some patience. With me, but mostly with yourself. We’ll get through this, I know it.” 

Len was listening with rapt attention; his raw emotion and tears leaving him bare and receptive to Ray’s words. His reassuring tone was one that Len seldom heard throughout his life and it soothed him, taking the edge off of his pain. Those damn doe-eyes, teared up in empathy and kindness, made Len’s stomach churn again, but this time with a hint of relief and comfort. This well-off, intelligent, and younger man from a completely different walk of life somehow had the exact right words that Len needed to hear and the gentlest of touches to keep him grounded. All of this… all of Ray made Len feel comfortable even at his most despondent and exposed. 

Ray tentatively reached forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Len’s shoulders, encircling him in his strong, warm arms. 

Len’s arms slowly came up, accepting the embrace, and held Ray tightly around the middle, allowing his tears to fall freely as silent sobs shook his frame. 

The pair embraced amid the dim destruction of the kitchen as the setting sun turned everything purple and gold around them. Neither one spoke another word of this moment and silently agreed to keep it to themselves.

 

Day 93 :

The days following Len’s outburst and Ray’s consoling were quiet. Len elected to stay at the apartment more often, making dinner for Ray as an unspoken thanks for putting up with him for the past few months. Today was just the same as Len entered the cozy apartment, kicking the door shut behind him with two large paper grocery bags in his arms. 

Ray was reclined on the sofa, deeply engrossed in a recently published scientific journal. He didn’t notice Len’s arrival until the light-footed man snuck up on him to wordlessly plop two stubs of paper on Ray’s chest and then return to the kitchen. Ray sat up, grabbing the stubs of paper and calling to Len, “What’s this?”

“Tickets,” Len barked from across the apartment. 

Ray got up and joined Len in the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he looked down at the tickets, “The Rear Window?” 

“One of my favorites; a classic,” Len said over the sound of the faucet water washing their vegetables. 

Ray chuckled and looked down at the ticket stub once more: ‘Grand Release! New Hitchcock Film! The Rear Window!’ Ray recognized the director’s name but couldn’t place him, “A sci-fi?” he asked, setting the tickets down near where their keys lived and joining Len by his side to help chop potatoes.

“No, a thriller; like me,” Len joked, waggling an eyebrow at Ray and trying hard not to bite his lip at the sound of Ray’s deep, full-bodied laughter. 

“That’s the truth, Len,” Ray said before placing a hand on Len’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently, “I’m just happy to see a smile back on your face.”

Len stilled when he felt Ray’s hand on him, not realizing how much he enjoyed the warmth and affection. After a moment’s worth of delight, followed quickly by fear and panic, Len shrugged him off with a casual sidestep to grab another knife, “What can I say? Hitchcock calms me.” 

Later that night the pair made their way to the same movie theatre they visited months before. Len plopped down in the seat next to Ray and handed him the bag of popcorn.

“Thanks!” Ray said delightedly, tossing some at his mouth and missing a few. 

Len couldn’t stop his face from brightening at Ray’s clumsy antics. “Oh,” he said nonchalantly, clearing his throat and trying to dim his smile, “I also thought you might like this,” he said as he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and handed Ray a yellow wrapped rectangle of candy.

Turning it over in his hand Ray’s boisterous laughter exploded into the crowded theatre without warning when he saw the label, ‘Sugar Daddy’. “You are so-” he started to say before Len shushed him, the lights dimming in the theatre.

“It’s starting,” he whispered close to Ray’s face with a smirk, hoping the dimming lights hid the way his eyes cataloged every detail of Ray’s delighted smile and sparkling eyes.    
  


Day 114:

As the weeks dragged on the pair fell into a comfortable routine. They would frequent the theatre for any premiering movies and spoil their dinner with popcorn and candies. When the weather was nice or if Ray was feeling particularly down and out, Len would insist on a trail walk at a nearby national park. Ray never said so, but Len was sure that the younger man was comforted by nature. The lack of technology or large markers of civilization created the illusion that they were back in their own time. Hell, Len needed those walks just as badly as Ray some days. 

When things started becoming a bit too monotonous, Ray suggested they go to the local university and watch some talks. Len agreed so long as  _ Doctor  _ Palmer didn’t get too worked up and accidentally advance American sciences by fifty years within a few weeks. “You can fangirl about your faves to me over dinner, just don’t egg on too many debates.”

“You want me to talk to you about science?” Ray asked incredulously as they walked to their first talk. “You never want to listen to me talk about science; what have you done with Len?” he asked playfully, grabbing onto Len’s chin and turning it to the side as he inspected him jokingly.

Len wrestled his face from Ray’s grip when he felt a warm blush coming to his cheeks at the touch, “Call me a softie, but I don’t want to get back to 2017 and find out all the security systems I learned are horribly advanced. I’m not the type to fall behind the curve,” he drawled, smirking at Ray out of the corner of his eyes. 

Ray noticed later that day that Len was, without hyperbole, suffering through the presentation. Even for someone as clever and quick to learn as Len, the dreary and lengthy discussions were horrible at keeping his attention. The older man dozed off, his head lolling onto Ray’s shoulder as the pair sat in the dark corners of the lecture hall. Ray grinned to himself at the feeling of Len’s head resting on him. Once the lecture ended, Ray elected to stay seated, flipping through his notes as the sound of Len’s subtle snores rooted him to his seat. 

“I think you’d enjoy the psychology talks better, honestly. Oh! Or maybe sociology!” Ray offered as the pair walked back to their apartment. 

Len wiped the sleep from his eyes and pointedly ignored how the lecture ended an hour ago and they were just now leaving. He gave a dismissive wave, “Don’t worry about me, Raymond. I’ll find a way to entertain myself.”

“By stealing?” Ray offered, a hint of disapproval in his tone. 

Len gave a short laugh at that and answered with a shrug, “You have your professions, I have mine.” His right hand danced in the air between them with his words. 

Ray grabbed it with insistence and stopped in his tracks, turning to face Len, “No, seriously. We have enough money to get by. And not too long ago you said stealing was boring here. You need something to do, Len.”

Len narrowed his eyes at Ray, not pulling his hand back and allowing them to remain clasped together, “I don’t need a  _ hobby _ , Raymond. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

Ray huffed lightly at that, “I didn’t know grown men broke dinnerware in their downtime.”

“If it suits them,” Len said with a tinge of malice, yanking his hand back to himself and continuing down the path to their apartment. 

“Len,” Ray called, jogging to catch up and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t mean any-, I just, I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t want you bored out of your mind, is all.”

“Why? So you can keep the new china? Didn’t take you for the Martha Stewart-type,” Len snarked. 

“No, because I care about you, Len,” Ray said, shocked at the sincerity in his tone, but not regretting his words. He fell silent, letting them linger heavy between them as they continued their walk back. 

As Len began to put the key in the door, he froze, turning to look at Ray with a deep furrow in his brow, “Okay,” he said matter of factly. 

“Okay, what?” Ray answered, his own face twisting in confusion.

“The hobby thing. Find me one. Better be good, or I’ll resort to bar fights to stave my inhibiting boredom,” Len said resolutely, swinging their door open and sauntering inside to prepare dinner. 

* * *

The next day Ray came home with paint supplies and began setting up easels and tarps in their living room. Len returned from a walk to find Ray in an old pair of pants and a tank top, paint splotches decorating his exposed skin at random and a bright smile on his face. Setting his keys down warily, Len took in the scene and noticed a blank easel next to Ray’s. “What’s this?”

“Art!” Ray exclaimed, walking over to grab Len’s hand and pull him into the room. “I was never very good at it, but it’s fun! Make something with me!”

Len usually despised painting and creating art. Without a clear, definite end or a brain teasing puzzle, he would lose his interest almost immediately. But Ray’s eager to please attitude was getting to him and he couldn’t help himself as he reached for a brush to appease the grinning man. 

A few hours later, Ray looked to Len’s piece and was thoroughly confused. It was nothing but swirls of blues and whites. “So, what is it?” he finally asked. 

Len turned slowly to Ray, a bit of annoyance written on his face at the intrusion, “Ice.”

Ray couldn’t help his giggle, “Keeping with the theme, huh, Cold?”

“Staying true to myself, Atom,” Len said with a smug smile as he quickly painted a smear of blue on Ray’s nose with his long brush.

Ray scoffed and dipped his finger in a nearby blob of yellow paint, streaking it across Len’s forehead before the other could duck. 

Len put down his brush and dipped his right hand in teal and his left in a dark blue, “It’s on now, Palmer.” Len rushed Ray behind the sofa, getting teal in his dark brown hair and a dark blue swipe across an ear and the back of his neck. 

Ray changed directions on him, chasing Len into the kitchen and getting a few bright yellow handprints on his dark long-sleeved shirt. Len’s usual smirk was broken out into a full on smile as he turned on Ray and corned him back in the living room, the two standing head to head trying to get around the other. “Nowhere to turn now, boy scout.” Len taunted, his blue hands floating between them, ready to pounce.

Ray’s eyes went down and noticed Len’s legs were wide open and decided to go for a hail mary, diving between them in an attempt to scurry away. 

Len had been detailing every subtle movement of his opponent and when Ray dove down, Len fell with him, pinning him to the carpeted floor with all his weight. Ray let out an  _ oomph _ and tried to flip over to gain control of the situation. Len was too quick for him, flipping around and smearing blues all over his broad shoulders and playfully lifting his head up to cover his face. 

Ray groaned and laughed the whole time, squirming as he tried to roll over onto his back. When he finally succeeded, he deftly switched their positions, pinning Len to the floor with all of his weight, their bodies flush against one another as they laughed and panted together. Ray smeared yellow all over Len’s face and neck and any bit of exposed skin he could get his hands on. After a moment, he realized Len wasn’t fighting back anymore, just laughing along as he let Ray paint him. Ray stilled after a moment, his hands around Len’s painted face, their faces so close he could feel Len’s hot panting against his cheek. Len’s heart raced against Ray’s chest as they lay together on the carpet, not moving, eyes locked on one another, smiles plastered on their faces. 

Finally, Len composed himself once again, his bright smile fading as he averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Ray said under his breath as he got up and offered a hand to help Len to his feet. 

The pair laughed quietly as they noticed all of the paint smears around their apartment’s walls and furniture. “The landlady is going to kill us,” Ray thought outloud.

Len shrugged, “Think it gives the place character,” he offered with a smirk, moving to start cleaning up and walking away from their moment. 

 

Day 132:

A few weeks later Len was flipping through another glossy magazine, his feet on the coffee table, when Ray bursted in through the front door. He had a box in his arms which he placed on the coffee table next to Len’s feet and smiled at the other man in triumph.

“You look very pleased with yourself,” Len remarked, flipping down a corner of his magazine to  look up to Ray from under his brow. 

“Well, since painting wasn’t really your thing, I thought maybe you’d like this?” Ray asked, signaling to the box between them.

Len simply cocked an eyebrow as he set down his magazine, sitting up straighter as he swung his legs down from the table. Pulling on the tape, Len opened the box with flair and exactness, excited to see the contents. When it finally revealed its secret, he paused, his smirk falling flat, “Books?” 

“Yeah!” Ray said, his smile too bright in an attempt to get Len excited over the gift. “They’re great titles and I think you’d like them.” He offered, moving to sit next to Len on the sofa, pulling out one book and handing it to Len. “You’re always reading magazines; I thought you might like to try one of these.”

Len placed a gentle hand on his own heart, feigning offense, “Raymond, are you insinuating that I don’t read literature?” 

Ray’s eyes grew wide as panic set in. He waved his hands around frantically in an attempt to fix the misunderstanding, “No! No! I know you read! You’re a smart guy!” He finally calmed a little when Len laughed at him as he flipped open the cover of the book given to him. “Anyway, I didn’t just get them for the literary value,” he said, rolling his eyes a little and pulling another out of the box to inspect. 

Len turned on the couch, sitting cross legged as he stared Ray down, “Well, now I’m intrigued. Tell me,” he said, placing a hand on Ray’s knee to call the attention of those big brown eyes, “why did you get the books, Ray?”

Ray gulped from Len’s intense stare, a blush reddening his cheeks from Len’s attention and his gentle touch. “I-- I got them because… they’re first editions. Of classics. I thought, when we go back…” he paused, the pair always flinching a tad at the reminder of their uncertain return, “When we go back they’ll be priceless. Plus, with the time jump, they’ll be in perfect condition.” 

Len sat stunned. His hand frozen on Ray’s knee as he let the words sink in. Ray not only wanted to provide some kind of hobby for Len’s endless boredom, but he was thinking ahead. To the future. Their future, back in their time. He still held out hope and, even more, he was planting small seeds for Len’s future in his own Raymond sort of way. Len was moved by the gesture, his heart swelling uncomfortably in his chest as he broke his gaze on Ray to look back down at the book in his lap. “Thank you,” he muttered seriously with no hint of sarcasm or snark, his thumb rubbing gently on Ray’s knee with his words. 

Later that same night, the pair sat on the couch, Raymond at one end, Len at the other, his feet resting in Ray’s lap as they quietly flipped through their new books.

 

Day 185:

A few months passed with the same routine of movies, walks, books, and chatty dinners together. Len was currently reclined on their sofa, flipping through The Great Gatsby for the first time. The night was quiet as the pair read together, the sound of the wind or an occasional passing car would interrupt the silence. Len broke the stillness as he nudged Ray with his shoulder, holding the book out to him and pointing at a passage he had just read, “Read this,” he instructed.

Ray obliged, tilting his head to rest gently against Len’s shoulder as he read the passage. “I love that part! It’s my favorite,” Ray said upon finishing the section.

Len groaned and plopped the book down, “Of course you do. Go figure the boy scout loves sappy and cliche.”

“I think it’s a sweet gesture! It’s romantic! Something the great Captain Cold can’t seem to capture,” Ray snarked.

Len was truly affronted at the accusation. “I’ll have you know, Palmer, I can be quite romantic when the situation calls for it.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Ray quipped. 

Len smirked and was glad that Ray wasn’t looking at him as he felt his cheeks warming, betraying his calm and composed front.  _ I believe I can arrange something _ , Len thought to himself, then shook away that train of thought before it went too far. “Either way, someone who spends that much money on flowers doesn’t know how to spend their money.” 

Ray poked Len in the side, “And you do?”

Len cracked a smile, “I’ve made a career out of how to spend other people’s money.”

Ray laughed at that and reached for the book again as he opened it to reread the short passage, his fingers fitting over Len’s gently as the pair held the book together for a moment. “I still like the gesture of flowers, though. Even if they don’t last, they’re beautiful, brighten up a room and nice to have around.”

Len couldn’t help but feel as if a poor analogy had been made. But the warmth of Ray leaning against him quieted that thought as Ray’s fluffy hair tickling his cheek brought him back to the moment. Len recorded every detail in his mind: Ray’s rough fingers warm against his as he tilted the book towards himself, his slow, even breathing as they relaxed against one another. 

 

Day 206 :

Ray returned from grocery shopping to find Len at the dining table, cleaning out his Cold Gun. “Planning a heist?” he asked, unloading the groceries onto the counter. 

Len sighed and set down his cleaning tools, his eyes still fixed on the gun, “Just nostalgic, I suppose,” he said with a flurry of a hand. 

Ray couldn’t help a small chuckle, “Nostalgic for the future? Now  _ that _ sounds like a cool scifi movie.”

Len huffed a small laugh as he finished putting his Cold Gun back together, then stashing it in a compartment he added under the dining table. Crossing the kitchen to help Ray with dinner, Len finally spoke, “Fun to watch, not so fun to live.” 

Ray couldn’t help the tinge of worry and guilt he felt from the words. “We’re… not having fun?” 

Len glanced at Ray’s face, reading his troubled emotions easily and turned to face him head on, locking their eyes, “Ray… even though we’re stuck in the wrong decade, I think we’re having as much fun as we can. That’s thanks to you.” He paused before continuing, “I never thought I’d say this, but if I was stuck in time with anyone, well… I’m just glad it was you.” He reached forward and placed a gentle hand on Ray’s arm. 

Ray leaned into the touch and smiled as Len caressed him gently, feeling his warmth as they stood close, his eyes sparkly from oncoming tears. 

Len was normally disgusted by such blatant displays of emotion, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze from Ray as they stood there, quietly smiling at one another. 

A harsh beeping broke through the gentle moment and the pair jumped from the intrusion.

“What the hell-”

“The beacon!” Ray exclaimed, running to his bedroom where the beacon was stashed in a drawer. Len met him there and they both stared at the device in awe, unsure what to say. 

Suddenly the whole apartment shook and the telltale sounds of the Waverider landing outside animated them. Running onto the street they watched as Jax and Rip exited the ship. 

“Snart! Ray!” Jax exclaimed, “We found you!” 

Snart didn’t stop running until he was right in Rip’s face and gave him a swift, hard punch to the jaw, “Took long enough,  _ Captain _ .”

Jax jumped between them, holding up his hands, “Woah! Hold up! We tried to get here sooner, but we had issues.”

Rip was holding his jaw and tenderly flexing it, “Nice to see you, too, Snart. If you’ll please get on the ship we’ll explain everything.” 

Len took a moment to stare Rip down before turning back towards the apartment, “Let me get my gun.”

Ray watched with a dropped jaw as Len stalked past him. A hurricane of emotions was storming inside of him: relief, elation, and, surprisingly, disappointment. He followed Len back into the apartment and the pair set to gathering their things in silence.

Len grabbed his gun and the small collection of books Ray had gifted him. On his desk his hand hovered over a few small pieces of paper, the Godzilla and The Rear Window ticket stubs. He considered them a moment, then without another thought on the matter, slipped them inside one of his books. Walking out into the living room he saw Ray standing there, silently staring out of the apartment. 

Ray turned to Len with a tear in his eye, “I’m actually gonna miss this, Len,” he confessed. “Do you… do you think everything’s gonna change?”

Len gave Ray a sidelong look, “Of course. A lot changes in the next 60 or so years.”

Ray continued to stare at Len even through the rebuffed answer. “You know what I mean,” he crossed over to Len and tentatively placed a hand on his arm, which Len promptly pulled away from. 

Len had felt the same disappointment Ray had. Instead of evolving into doubt and uncertainty as it had in Ray, Len was struck deeply with fear. How could he expect to return to 2017 with Ray and have things be same as they have these past few months? These past few months had been trying, but more than anything they were comfortable and  _ gentle _ . Len couldn’t return to Central City or even the Legends, couldn’t return to Captain Cold with a six foot something, brown eyed  _ weakness  _ holding him back. His fear felt heavy in the pit of his stomach and his heart wrenched cruelly at the damned puppy-dog eyes. 

Ray retracted his hand and crossed his arms, hugging himself tightly, “I thought… I thought we were having a nice time together. Earlier, you  _ just _ said--”

“I know what I said,” Len’s tone was cold and sharp as he cut off Ray. He sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose to regain his composure. “Can we- can we just not do this right now?” he pleaded, unable to look at Ray.

Ray nodded after a moment and took a few deep breaths, wiping at his eyes to calm himself. He picked up his large duffel bag and the pair left their apartment without another look back.

* * *

Back on the ship the shock of blue and whir of machines was jarring as the pair readjusted slowly to the artificial lights. Ray cracked a weak smile at his teammates, giving them each a warm hug. 

Len sauntered up to Mick. The pair glared at one another for a brief moment before Mick grunted and gave Len a heavy handed pat on the back, “Drink?” he offered. 

Len smirked at him, happy that even with all the time between them, nothing had changed. “Lets,” he turned to address everyone. “Hello,” he drawled, “I’m sure you’ve all missed me but before we go tramping around again… I need a drink.” 

“There’s drinks in the mess,” Rip stated, walking over to the command station and pressing some buttons. 

Len slowly approached him with Mick at his side, “If I recall correctly, you left me and Ray stranded in the 1950s for more than half a year. I’m sure you can see why that makes me so noncompliant to your demands,  _ Captain _ . ...I want a drink and I’m going back to 2017.” The seriousness in his tone was not missed.

Rip stood his ground while remaining silent through the unofficial staring contest. 

Finally, Ray spoke up, “Actually 2017 sounds like a good idea. I’d like to get some sushi and I really should pay a visit to Cisco,” he held up the small plastic container that housed his shrunken suit. “I had to take my suit apart to make the beacon and I could use his help restoring it.” 

Rip looked up to the ceiling and sighed with defeat. “Gideon?” he called. 

“Yes, Captain Hunter?”

“Plot a course for 2017,” he mumbled, turning away and stalking off to his office.

Gideon’s affirmative response was drowned out by everyone’s cheers. Len smirked to Mick then gave Ray a quick nod as thanks before buckling in for the jump.


	2. Back to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len and Ray suffer whiplash from their sudden return to 2017.

Upon their return to 2017, everyone split off on their own for the mini-vacation. Len and Mick paired off and headed straight for Saints and Sinners. 

The pair plopped down in the usual booth and ordered their usual drinks; Len savored his favorite beer, then his favorite whiskey, then indulging in a few bourbons, as well. Mick was rattling off his understanding of the mess the team had found themselves in for awhile, in between his many beers.

Len spoke up after his third drink and cracked some jokes about the 50s and lamented how boring stealing was with everything being so old school. 

Lisa showed up at some point during Len’s monologue and gave both her brother and Mick a solid punch to the shoulder. “First, you leave me to travel through time, don’t invite me, and stay gone for months!  _ Then _ I have to find out you’re back by waltzing in here and catching you assholes having a drink without me!” 

Len gave Lisa a bright, real smile and pulled her in for a warm hug, allowing himself some unfiltered joy at finally seeing his sister again. 

She smirked, giving up her anger, and pushed Len farther in the booth to make herself a spot. “I’ll have a cosmo!” She called to the barkeep, “On Lenny’s tab!” She turned back to Len, “So, Sara tells me you got stuck in the 50s with a teammate?” she asked, cracking open some peanuts.

Len’s smile deflated and he turned back to his drink, taking a swig with an, “mmhm.”

Lisa brow quirked at the behavior. She was able to read her brother like a flashing billboard and knew instantly there was something there. “So, how many rootbeer floats did you have? You sick of em, yet? No, wait, how many candy stores did you rob?”

Mick barked a loud laugh at that, “Ask him about his car,” Mick laughed as he tossed back the rest of his beer.

Len groaned a bit at that, “I really will miss that car--”

“Hey! Snart!” 

The trio turned, small grins on their face as a group of five burly men approached them, one in a slick suit leading the pack.

“I see you decided to show your face again, punk,” the man growled.

“Joey Santini…” Len drawled, giving him a glance then looking away as he swirled his drink, “I know you missed me, but you don’t have to be so obvious about it.”

Joey fumed, his face turning red, “You sly, son of a--”

Lisa stood up and drew her Gold Gun, pointing it firmly at Joey’s face, which shut him up quickly, “You were saying?” she asked, sickly sweet with a cheshire smile.

Joey collected his shock and continued to sneer at them. “You  _ Rogues _ . All you do is hide behind your guns. Buncha cowards!” He leaned forward, pressing the barrel of Lisa’s gun to his forehead threateningly.

Len sighed deeply and set his drink down, standing up to join Lisa at her side, “Lise, this guy just called us cowards. Can you believe that?”

“The nerve,” she tsked, her eyes fixed on Joey’s watching the worry spread over his face. 

“Says we hide behind our guns. The boy seems to forget we ran this town long before that tech.” He reached up and pushed Lisa’s gun down gently back to her side. He replaced the barrel and stood nose to nose with Joey instead, “I’m not a Santini. I hide behind  _ nothing _ ,” he hissed, right before rearing back and landing a cracking right hook to Joey’s jaw. 

Before Len knew it, his fists were flying, landing hard on the Santini kid. The sound of Mick howling and throwing himself into two men filled the bar. Lisa holstered her gun and smashed a few bottles over some Santini cronies’ heads. Saints erupted into a huge fight, the barkeep sighing deeply and grabbing his shotgun off the mantle behind him, cocking it incase someone got sticky fingers on his stash. 

After a good long brawl, the Santinis, bloodied and beaten, limped toward the door, holding up their hands in defeat. Lisa laughed and watched a few crawl out. Mick whooped and cursed them all as they left. Len still had Joey by the collar and was landing a final blow to his nose before Lisa finally noticed and pulled him off. Len enjoyed a good brawl, but the rage and anger in his eyes were too intense for a quick scuffle on a Santini kid. Her brow ruffled as she watched Len take a few deep breaths, calming himself and smirking as Joey limped out of the bar. There was something there under the surface, and she was determined to find out. 

Mick came over and clapped Len on the back, “Just what we needed!”

Len smirked and cracked his neck, “Nothing like putting the Santinis in their place. Let’s have another round!” He called to the bar, then lifted up a wallet he swiped from Joey, “On the Santinis!” 

Lisa, Mick, and Len, with a new round of drinks, clinked glasses with bright smiles and bloody knuckles.

* * *

“Wow, you really did a number on your suit, dude,” Cisco lamented as he looked over the full-sized atom suit.

“Yeah, but it was necessary. It was the only way I could construct a beacon for the Waverider to come back and find us.”

Cisco stopped and turned from his hunched over position at the suit to look at Ray over his shoulder, “Find you?”

Ray gave a short laugh and nodded his head, walking closer to begin taking some things apart that needed fixing, “yeah… the legends kind of left me stuck in the 1950s.”

Cisco’s eyes blew wide, “ _ stuck _ in the  _ fifties _ ? How? I bet you fit right in, though,” he joked.

Ray laughed at that, “Yeah, apparently all you need to blend in the 1950s is to be two adult men.”

“Wait, two? Who was stuck with you, Stein?”

“No… actually, uh Len- I mean, Snart. We were there for over six months.”

Cisco gave Ray an incredulous look, “Wait, wait wait, you were stuck in the 50s, with Snart, and you stayed with him the whole time? Hold on,  _ he  _ stayed with  _ you _ the whole time? Isn’t he a lone wolf kinda guy?”

Ray shrugged, “There was a short period where we kept a distance, but for the most part we stuck together. He may be Captain Cold, but he’s still part of my team. We needed each other.”

Cisco was still in disbelief, “So like, what, he stole for you and you built him the beacon?”

Ray nodded, then furrowed his brow as he thought about it more, “That’s how it started out. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.” He set down his tools and crossed his arms, giving a small huff, “But… it changed. It’s weird being in a different time, not knowing when you’re coming back. You know absolutely no one and you end up quarantining yourself from the rest of the world. Len helped me when I was starting to lose my head and I helped him when he got destructive.” 

Cisco had set his tools down now, turning to give Ray his full attention, “Wait, sorry, so  _ Cold _ can be… warm?”

Ray chuckled sadly and nodded, “It surprised me, too.” His face turned somber, “But he’s back to his old self again. We were having a nice time, I thought. But now everything’s… distant.”

Cisco could see the sadness in Ray’s eyes and proceeded to tread lightly, “Snart, er, Len doesn’t seem like the type to talk. Have you tried since you both came back?”

Ray shook his head, “I can’t find him. He won’t answer his communicator. Maybe it’s best I figure out all these damn feelings I have before we talk. I don’t even know what I want to say!” He started getting a bit frantic, exasperation obvious in his tone.

Cisco thought about it for awhile, “Maybe start with ‘I miss you’?”

Ray considered it for a moment, “It’s the truth.”

Cisco nodded, “I think it’d be a good start, Ray.” He reached over and placed a kind hand on his knee.

Ray gave him a half smile, “Either way, I’m scared it’ll mess up the team if I try to do something about my feelings. How did you and Barry make it work?”

Just then a rush of air swirled around them as Barry entered, leaning into place a big kiss on Cisco’s cheek then smile at Ray, “Hey man!”

Cisco didn’t let Barry’s interruption get in the way of their conversation, “We worked it out. There were rough patches, but we were both important to the team and important to each other, so the only option was to make it work. Just talk it out, see how he feels and go from there.”

Ray nodded as he thought, then shook his head, “Yeah, but you guys are you guys! You’re both heroes and we’re both… not.”

“Wait, who’s ‘he’?” Barry asked.

“Snart,” Cisco answered.

“Cold! Wait, really? He can be nice?” Barry asked with surprise.

Cisco nodded enthusiastically, “Dude, I said the same thing!”  
“Guys!” Ray exclaimed, “My emotional crisis?”

“Right, sorry,” Barry apologized, “But truly, though, you may not both be ‘heroes’ but you’re both on the same team, you’re both legends. And I’ve told him this  _ so _ many times before, but there’s good in him. Just talk to him. Be blunt about your feelings and if he feels the same way, he’ll let you know in his own weird Snart way.”

Ray thought about it for a moment and nodded, “Thanks, guys. I really needed this.”

* * *

Len met up with Lisa at Saints and Sinners for lunch for their non-official daily hang out. The pair were finishing up their meals when Lisa couldn’t help but pry into the 1950s some more.

“So, did you sleep on trains? Vagabond style?”

Len snorted at that, “No. Believe it or not, your brother is capable of finding a comfy place to lay his head in even the most dire situations,” he drawled.

“Like Ray’s broad shoulders?” She asked, with a sneaky grin.

Len sat upright instantly, her words taking him by surprise. He gave her a calculating look as he tried to figure out how she knew. Then he looked to the side and shook his head, “I need to have a word with Sara about keeping her mouth shut.”

She ignored him and pressed on with more questions, “Why won’t you talk about him? What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t  _ do _ anything to me, Lise,” Len sneered, drinking back the rest of his beer. 

Lisa sat a moment and considered her brother before finally saying it outright, “You love him, don’t you?”

Len choked on the rest of his drink and tried to recover his loss of grace by clearing his throat firmly, “What?”

She was grinning like the cat that got the canary and nodded firmly, “Yep. You like that nerd. Did y’all hookup in the 50s? All covert and behind closed doors?”

“Lisa you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Len turned away from her and looked to the door, planning a daring escape from this conversation. 

“Sure, then why aren’t you denying it?” she continued.

Len rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to play your mind games, trainwreck.” 

She stood up at that and went over to the pool table to wrack up a game, “Maybe play an actual game, then?”

Len got up and joined her.

The pair played quietly with the jukebox subtly filling the otherwise silence of the room. Len’s face was hard and focused, yet he kept missing shots, easy ones. Lisa was grinning through the whole game as she cleaned house. She flipped her hair triumphantly as the 8-Ball sank in, winning her the game. 

Placing the pool stick back on the rack, she turned to her brother, “Love or not, whatever you wanna call it, you need to talk to this boy. Tell him you care for him, fuck him, marry him, I don’t care. But keeping it in, it’s fucking with your game, Lenny.”

She crossed the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek before downing the rest of her drink and grabbing her helmet. Walking out the door she tossed a wave over her shoulder and without another word she disappeared into the bright light of the Central City noon sun.

Len stared back down at the pocket her winning ball fell into and mumbled to himself, “It’s not love.”

* * *

A few days after the Pool Game incident, Len was lying on his couch, flipping through TV channels aimlessly when he heard a soft thud against the door. Getting up, he slowly walked over and listened to the sound of footsteps leaving, then coming back, then pacing away, and coming back again. Finally, he swung the door open and Ray stared back at him with his deep brown eyes. Len’s chest ached instantly at how downtrodden Ray looked. He longed for their quiet moments reading together and leaning on one another. He pushed the thought away, knowing they couldn’t return to that so easily, not with the team and the damned alter egos. Looking down he noticed a small package in Ray’s hands and quirked an eyebrow at it.

The action prompted Ray to speak finally, “I got it for you right before we came back… when I went out for groceries.”

Len couldn’t help a tiny smile at the gesture, “Want to come in?”

Ray thought for a moment then nodded, “Sure, if that’s okay?”

Len stepped to the side and watched as Ray entered and scanned the room, taking in the decor, “So, who did you bribe to get my address?” he drawled, leaning against a nearby wall in his living room.

Ray turned back to him, “No one. I just asked Gideon.”

Len made a mental note to have a chat with Gideon about boundaries. At this point, with Ray standing before him looking vulnerable as ever in the lion’s den so to speak, Len wasn’t sure what to say. His own emotions were warring inside of him and he fought hard to keep them subdued. He kept his mouth shut, knowing that he always went for the snarky jab when he felt this way and didn’t want to unnecessarily lash out on Ray again.

Ray looked down to his fidgeting hands for a moment and took a deep breath, “I came here because I feel like we should talk… I have some things I want you to hear.”

Len popped an eyebrow, “Oh boy, I love chats,” he said cooly.

Ray let out a short breath, “You’re really not making this easy,” he said uncomfortably, his hands planted on his hips in an empty gesture of confidence.

Len was a bit ticked off. How was he supposed to react to that? Swaddle him and coo sweet nothings to coax out his feelings? He should know that Len wasn’t the type to cajole. “Want me to get you a podium, Doctor?” He snarked, then mentally berated himself for the sass after watching Ray squirm even more at the words. 

“Damnit, Len, why does everything have to be dramatic with you?” Ray snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You know what, finding the right words is impossible, so... I miss you, Len! You’re frustrating, an ass, cold, and distant, but you’re also kind and caring. You care so much that it scares you so you put up these huge walls. I always thought you were soft on the inside, but after the time we shared, I’m certain of it. You knew what I needed even when I didn’t. You let me help you when you needed it. We had each other’s backs and we had a great time. I miss reading together; I miss going to movies,” he crossed the space between them and stood less than a foot from Len, “I miss accidentally falling asleep with my head in your lap and we’d wake up in the morning in the same position because you didn’t move us. I miss how you’d make me strawberry cupcakes to make me feel better. I miss the way you look driving that damned powder blue car, windows down like you were the king of the world.”

At this point Len’s heart was pounding deep in his chest, ringing in his ears. Ray’s emotive eyes were staring into him and Len wasn’t able to mask all of his emotions. His face softened, his brow pulled together in sweet sorrow as he watched the desperation play on Ray’s face. Ray reached out slowly and tentatively took Len’s hand in his own, gently rubbing a thumb across his knuckles like he had so long ago in their wrecked kitchen. Len let him, his skin tingling hot from the touch; he hadn’t realized how much he longed for Ray’s big hands on him. 

“Len,” Ray pleaded softly, stepping even closer so their noses nearly touched, “I’m not going to mince words with you. I miss you. I care for you.” He lifted his free hand to slowly cup Len’s face, gently holding him as if he were a wild animal, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. “I want to be with you, Len. I love you.”

Len’s breath caught. His mind was racing from the words, the look on Ray’s face, the feeling of him on his skin, his closeness. Len didn’t know what to do or say. He felt cornered, drunk from Ray’s vulnerability and exposed emotion. He missed the man, too, and the way his heart jumped at the sight of him on his doorstep was evidence enough. The way his world shrunk down to contain only this tall, beautiful, gentle man was jarring. 

Len always prided himself on never making a hasty decision. He always considered every angle and possibility. Ray barging into his home, cornering him with these raw emotions, taunting him with the impossibility of a life together: it was too much to consider at once, especially with the warm feeling of their fingers entwined. Len shook his head, blinking back the wetness in his eyes. Pulling himself away from Ray, Len crossed over to the front door, opening it for him, “I can’t, Ray.”

It was Ray’s turn to have the breath knocked out of him. After all of that, after baring his soul to Len all he got was three words and a way out. His sight blurred from the tears that were now falling freely down his face, “you can’t be serious, Len. After all we’ve been through, you won’t even talk to me? I know you miss me, too… right?”

Len’s mouth was a firm line, anything to keep it from quivering. He wanted so badly to reach out and wipe away Ray’s tears, to kiss them away and hold the man tight and tell him everything would be okay. But he couldn’t; two men so different as they were couldn’t truly expect things to just  _ work out _ . Len kept reminding himself that putting an end to things before they got worse was more humane than letting them suffer through the fallout. He said nothing to Ray and just averted his eyes, trying to save himself from those puppy-dog eyes.

Ray stood there a moment, watching Len’s stone cold expression hide his emotions yet again. He couldn’t pull out a confession or even an explanation without hurting himself more in the process. Finally, he wiped at his eyes and took in a shaky breath. “I guess Barry was right. You’d let me know how you felt in your own way. I don’t know why I expected anything other than a cold shoulder.” 

Ray saw Len’s jaw tighten at the words, then left without looking back. 

Len slammed the door closed and locked it tight. He leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, hugging his knees close and let himself do the one thing he never allowed: he cried. 

* * *

Ray went straight to his car and slammed the door closed behind him. He bit his lip through his pouring tears as he went on autopilot and pulled out onto the road. 

He didn't know where he was headed until minutes later he was knocking on Cisco’s door. 

It swung open to a smiling Cisco, who's bright grin disappeared instantly at the sight of Ray: his face reddened and puffy from crying, a weak smile involuntarily flickering on his features. 

Ray noticed Barry wrapped up on the sofa, a movie paused on the TV, and the smell of popcorn. “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to--” he croaked, feeling bad for interrupting. 

“Ray,” Cisco said softly, reaching for him and pulling him in for a warm hug, “It's okay, it's alright,” he consoled as Ray started to cry again from the gentle touch. 

Ray hugged him back tightly then pulled away, “I'm sorry, I just didn't know where to go…” He trailed off as Cisco tugged him into the apartment and they sat down on the couch, Barry giving him a warm hug and a worried look. 

“What happened?” Cisco asked softly, a gentle hand on Ray’s arm. 

Ray took a deep breath and finally said, “Len and I talked. ...well, I talked. He, just, he kicked me out.”

Barry stood up angrily at that, “he just ignored you?”

Cisco made a wincing face at Barry’s outburst and gave him a ‘slow down’ motion with his hands. 

“Yeah, I told him how I felt and he just didn't say anything. Just ‘I can’t’,” Ray recounted in a slightly mocking voice. “I just don't get it. I know he doesn't talk much or share much but at least tell me  _ something _ !” Rays tears had started to fall again. 

“I'm so sorry, Ray,” Cisco consoled, pulling him in for another big hug. 

“I thought we could work things out like you guys, but he doesn't even want to try! It's like he doesn't even care!” He nearly shouted, punching a small pillow next to him in his anger. 

Barry was bouncing on the balls of his feet, pacing back and forth as Cisco consoled Ray. He couldn't sit there and watch Len turn away from Ray like this. Flash and Cold had a weird understanding of one another and Barry had a feeling that Len was just shooting himself in the foot and hurting Ray along the way. “I have to go,” he announced as he pulled on his shoes and grabbed his keys and phone. 

“Barry, don't--” Cisco started to say before Barry was already zipping out the door. 

* * *

Len stood up, feeling completely drained of emotion and unsure of how to proceed after his outburst. He jerkily wiped the drying streams of tears from his face and moved towards the kitchen to fix a glass of bourbon. Len never was a huge drinker but couldn't keep himself away when things got  _ messy _ .

_ Ray knew that _ , Len thought to himself.  _ I didn't need to tell him. He just knew what I needed…  _ he felt a fresh sting of tears coming to his face and shook his head angrily.  _ Well, he's not here now. It's for the best.  _ He told himself, as he poured three fingers of dark liquid and stared down as it swirled in the glass. 

He brought the glass to his lips, the sharp smell cutting through his system, preparing him for the sting then the reassuring numbness. Before the drink touched his tongue, Len caught sight of the brown wrapped package Ray had left that was now sitting on the entryway table. 

Stamping down fiercely on the sadness that flared yet again, Len slammed the glass down with a grunt and stormed over to the package. He grabbed it harshly and ripped the wrapping off jaggedly across the front revealing a book:  The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell . A dark green, nicely bound book with gold lettering. There was a small note poking out between the pages. 

> _ Hi Len,  _
> 
> _ I got this for an early birthday gift from our favorite bookstore. I saw Russell give a talk at the university and thought you might like some things he had to say. You were at the talk too but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. _ (Ray doodled a small smiley face in the margin.) 
> 
> _ I suppose now it's a late birthday present but I couldn't leave it behind. I hope you like it!  _
> 
> _ Yours,  _
> 
> _ Ray Palmer _

Len quickly wiped his eyes again, ignoring the tears that wouldn't leave him  _ alone _ . Instead his vision zeroed in on one word: “yours”. His stomach flipped at the implication, a flicker of delight at the idea. Len grumbled again as his mind raced. Did Ray really think he could waltz in here and declare his feelings and they'd be together? Did he really know what he was asking? Being ‘Len’s’ isn't a walk in the park and he should know that.  _ Why does he have to wear his damn heart on his sleeve?  _ Len thought as his knuckles turned white around the book.

His eyes fell to the page the note was in and a quote struck him unexpectedly:

> “ In all forms of love we wish to have knowledge of what is loved, not for purposes of power but for the ecstasy of contemplation... This may indeed be made the touchstone of any love that is valuable”

Len stared at the words, his head feeling heavy from his emotional rollercoaster and now this damn quote. It meant something to him but it just didn't make any sense. 

Len framed his life around knowledge that empowered him, that helped him stay one step ahead. The only love he knew that wasn't driven by that power was his love for Lisa. Even Mick after a while. He cared for them and didn't just need them for heists or fights. Their company and companionship was enough. 

_ But it's not the same with Ray _ , Len told himself. He needed the man's smarts to get out of the 50s. Kept him around so he wouldn't get stir crazy, lost, or without a way back to 2017. Kept him around because-- because he was nice to talk to. He was a good cook and a crappy baker. A brilliant man with a spring in his step and a huge heart. He was clever, funny, goofy, intelligent, and kind. 

“Damnit,” Len said as his thoughts circled back around. “I fucked up,” he said soberly, staring down at the note,  _ Yours, Ray, _ with tears in his eyes again. 

Just then he heard and felt a swoosh as he looked up and saw Barry standing before him, anger written all over his face. His chest was puffed up and he looked ready for a fight. 

Len sighed, set the book down on a nearby table and crossed his arms, “what the hell are you doing here, Barry?” He said with a bite, wishing he had wiped his eyes dry already. 

“We need to talk,” Barry said, pointing a finger down resolutely. 

“I'm done with talks, today,” Len said, waving a dismissive hand and turning away from him. 

“Don't think so,” Barry said, having zipped in front of him again. 

Len was exhausted and angry; Barry had no right meddling in his business. He had no idea what was going on in his head and Len wasn't about to share. “Barry, if you don't leave I will freeze you.” 

“You and I both know I'll have you in Iron Heights before you can even take another step towards your gun.” Barry threatened. “You hurt Ray and I know you're doing it to keep him safe or whatever. It's stupid. You can't just turn on him like that, at least talk to the guy. He cares about you, Snart, and you just kicked him out! What the hell! I know you're a villain or whatever but have a heart, dude! He deserves better than that and you know it. If you don't love him just tell--” 

“I do!” Len blurted with exasperation, his eyes sincere and fierce as he glared at Barry. The speedster was starting to talk too fast and the noise was grating on Len's nerves. He then realized what he said and paused. 

Barry stared wide eyed at Len and then confusion furrowed his brow. “You do? You love him?” 

Len’s gaze faltered away as he got lost in his thoughts. He walked over to his phone and started looking things up as a plan had already formed in his mind. He finally turned back to Barry who was watching him cautiously. 

“Seems like I do... And I fucked it up.” He scribbled down two addresses on a sheet of paper and gave Barry a wad of cash he pulled from a drawer in his kitchen. “Help me fix it?” He asked, his face sincere and a little desperate. 

Barry eyed him curiously, then took the paper from him. After reading it he nodded with a small smile and zipped out of the apartment. 

* * *

A few hours later Cisco had managed to get Ray in and out of the shower. He needed a suit, according to Barry's vague text. Ray, of course, didn't have any with him so they warped to the Waverider and had two nice suits replicated because Cisco wasn't going to turn down the opportunity for a couture Armani suit. 

Cisco's phone pinged with a text from Barry: ‘Ok, vibe me; we’re ready.”

Cisco grabbed Ray’s arm and, putting on his goggles, he vibed Barry's current location. He held up a hand and created a warp and walked them them through. 

Ray, who was thoroughly confused through this whole ordeal, gasped when they came through the other side of the warp. 

He found himself in a giant warehouse, he assumed. He couldn’t tell for sure because the walls and the floor and the ceiling were draped in thousand of flowers. Shades of pinks, whites, reds, blues, and a thick curtain of greenery hung all around him. Nearly every inch of the floor was covered with flowers in opulent vases or simply scattered artistically on the ground. Before him was a short path where at the end, a few paces away, Len stood, his hands clasped tightly with a small, yet worried smile on his face. He was dressed to the nines, as well, his dark blue suit hugging his form in all the right places.

Ray stood with his jaw agape, taking in the grand gesture. He slowly creeped toward Len, unsure of what to do with himself. When they were finally a foot apart, he stopped as Len called his attention away from the flowers. 

“Ray, I-” he paused as Ray’s brown eyes met his. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed. 

Ray didn’t say anything, just continued to watch Len as he fumbled with his words. 

“I’m an idiot. I don’t like to talk about… feelings. Never was too good at it, but I-- I miss you, Ray.” His damn heart was racing from the vulnerability, his eyes starting to get wet before he realized it. “I have a hard time doing the smallest things now that you’re not around. You mean a lot to me, more than just being a brilliant scientist, you’re… kind and you believe in me.” Len reached tentatively for Ray’s hand with bated breath. 

Ray let him, unsure of his feelings after being slighted not so long ago. But here Len was, baring his heart for him, being open and vulnerable in a way that Ray was sure he hadn’t been with anyone before. He let Len take his hand into both of his own, feeling their rough fingers sliding together as Len smoothed his thumbs smooth against his palm. 

“Ray, I care about you so much it terrifies me. I can’t promise happily ever after to you, that’s just not the kind of person I am, but if you let me, I’d love to try. So, Raymond Palmer…” Len started to bend on one knee, keeping Ray’s hand in his own and never taking his eyes away from Ray’s. “I love you. Will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?” 

Cisco and Barry were standing off to the side, far enough away from the moment, but not too far to inhibit their eavesdropping. 

“Did he just?” Cisco started to ask.

“I could’ve sworn he was going to-” Barry started.

“Bar, why is your archenemy so extra?” Cisco finished, both of them shaking their head with tiny smiles on their faces.

“Like… a date? A real date?” Ray finally asked with a tiny croak in his voice, a grin breaking out across his face. 

Len nodded, “A real date. I’ll even walk you to your door after.” 

Ray’s smile could’ve powered an entire city as he nodded enthusiastically, pulling Len up onto his feet and wrapping him in the warmest hug he could muster. 

Len sighed into the hug, wrapping his arms around Ray’s broad shoulders and leaning their heads against one another as they embraced. Len couldn’t help it as his hand snuck into the hair at the nape of Ray’s neck, his fingers delighting in the softness he had missed so dearly. 

Ray gave a small laugh, pulling away from their embrace slightly as his hands rested on Len’s waist comfortably. “So, I have to ask…” he smiled as he looked out across the room again, “how much  _ did _ you spend on all of this?” 

Len smirked, proud of himself, “Let’s just say, Gatsby was a pauper.” 

Ray rolled his eyes, “I thought flowers weren’t a good way to spend your money?” 

Len laughed at that, “They’re not… but you are,” he quipped, unable to stop himself from booping Ray’s nose with a finger. 

Ray grinned, then jumped as Barry suddenly appeared at their side with a few glasses of champagne for them. 

Len smirked and gave a small nod as he took a glass, “Thanks, Red.” 

Barry grinned back at both of them, giving Ray a pat on the shoulder as he ran back to Cisco, then swept them both away as Cisco gave a quick wave to Ray and Len. 

Len turned back to Ray, lacing their fingers together and holding up the glass for a cheers, “To our first real date.”

Ray smiled as he clinked their glasses, “To our first real date.”

They both sipped, then Len gestured at the room around them, “So, show me your favorites so I know for next time.”

Ray nearly choked on his drink, “Next time?”

Len shrugged, “I’m a glutton for a grand gesture, what can I say? This way I won’t have to get every available flower, just the ones you like.” 

Ray squinted at him as they moseyed through the paths between the flowers, “I bet you really do like romances and romcoms. You probably don’t tell anyone because it messes with your image.”

Len stopped their walking and gave Ray a serious look, “I trust you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you?”

Ray’s eyes blew wide as he shook his head from side to side, “Not a soul.”

Len took a deep breath, “I have a small, secret stash of romcoms that even Lisa doesn’t know about.” 

Ray gasped gleefully and covered his mouth with a hand, “What’s your favorite? I need to know, Len.” 

Len chuckled and downed the rest of his champagne, “Can’t believe I’m telling you this…”

“Tell me, tell me, please!” Ray pleaded, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“It’s a tie.” Len finally said, reaching for the champagne bottle they were passing up to fill their glasses again. “Between Notting Hill and The Princess Bride.” His cheeks turned a deep pink after the confession.

Ray grinned and sipped some more of his drink, “Now I know what to play when you’re feeling down,” he said with pride as he turned to continue down the path.

Len bit his bottom lip at the comment. Ray’s thoughtfulness continued to shock him still and he prayed it would never stop. 

“Oh! These are my favorite flower of all time!” Ray called from a few paces ahead. 

Len met him and snaked an arm around his waist from behind, pulling him close and enjoying the warmth of their bodies pressed together as he rested his head on Ray’s shoulder. The flower Ray was pointing at was a small bunch of yellow flowers, clumped together in a natural bouquet. “What are they called?”

“Whoopsie-daisies,” Ray joked, giggling as he felt Len sigh and hide his face in Ray’s shoulder as he laughed. 

“Notting Hill references? Already?” Len asked with a smirk, resting his chin on Ray’s shoulder and turning in so he could murmur into Ray’s ear. 

Ray laughed, “It won’t be the last of them. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Len gave a cheshire smile as he leaned a little closer, his lips brushing against Ray’s ear as he revelled in the softness of the touch, “As you wish,” he rumbled.

Ray’s entire body shivered from the touch, the words, the feeling of Len’s warm breath on his skin. His hand went to Len’s around his waist and he laced their fingers. He leaned back into Len’s chest and turned his head to meet his cool gaze. 

The pair stood like that for a moment, their lips a breath apart as they simply took in one another’s features. 

Ray saw Len’s face softened, relaxed and unworried for the first time. He was content and fearless and Ray felt heat pool in his stomach at the thought of Len’s leap of faith in being open and honest about his feelings. 

Len looked into Ray’s brown eyes and saw joy and delight in them and made a silent vow to keep them that way. His free hand still had his glass of champagne in it and without further regard for it, he flung it to the side as it sank beneath the curtain of flowers and shattered on the ground far away from them. 

Ray looked puzzled but Len’s hand was already on him, cupping his face tenderly and pulling him closer as their lips finally met. 

Warm and soft, they slowly kissed, Len recording every detail of Ray’s lips against his and the tiny whimpering sound he made once they finally touched. Ray was drunk in the ecstasy of Len’s embrace, the minty pine smell of his cologne, the sweet taste of the champagne on his lips, the delightful scratch of his stubble on Ray’s smooth cheeks. 

Turning in Len’s arms, Ray deepened their kiss, wrapping his arms snugly around Len’s neck as their tongues met for the first time. Len’s minute moan did not go unnoticed as the feeling of Ray’s tongue sliding across his left him coming undone, his hand snaking into the man’s fluffy brown hair. 

One of Ray’s hands came up to cup Len’s face as the other hand grabbed onto his shoulder for dear life, pressing his body harder into Len as the kiss quickly became more heated.

Len gasped for a quick breath between their kisses as an urgency rose between them. The kisses became a bit sloppier, more needy as Len pushed into Ray as well, their hips meeting as his arm still wrapped around Ray’s waist, keeping him close. 

Ray whimpered into Len’s mouth when he felt Len’s thumb making small circles at the base of his spine. His tucked in shirt kept Len from easily feeling Ray’s warm skin under his fingers, which was the only thing Ray wanted at the moment. He pulled away from the kiss, his tongue flicking out to savor the taste of Len on his lips.

He started to talk but was stunned by Len’s face: his lips puffy and red from the kiss, his eyes lidded in pleasure. He watched as Len bit his plump lower lip, then asked Ray, “Everything ok?”

Ray nodded emphatically, then said, “So, because this is a real official date, you said you’d walk me to my door, right?” 

Len quirked an eyebrow, unsure of Ray’s intention, “Ready to call it a night?” Len could hear the worry and disappointment in his tone and in any other circumstance would’ve hated himself for it. But Ray was there for him and was safe to share his feelings with so he allowed himself this vulnerability. 

Ray shook his head, quelling Len’s worry, “Come up for some coffee?” he said with a suggestive smirk. 

Len’s smile was bright and nearly blinding. He nodded his head toward an exit to their left, “My bike’s just outside.” 

Ray let Len lead him, lacing their fingers and grabbing the nearly forgotten bottle of champagne on their way out. 

When they got to Len’s bike, he fastened on his helmet and tossed a spare to Ray. Len hopped on his motorcycle and revved the engine, turning to look behind him he arched his back ever so slightly as he checked on Ray. 

Ray gulped at the sight of Len, straddling the bike and looking over his shoulder at him. Sure, he had appreciated the man’s body before, but now with the new territory they were about to venture in, his mouth was going dry. 

He finally hopped on, snuggling up close to Len and wrapping his arms around him tightly. The pair smiled to themselves, pink cheeked and full of butterflies. Len revved the engine and they tore off into the night, together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Say hi on tumblr, @ redbowbuddha!


End file.
